Loafers and Stilettos
by Stef
Summary: A different meeting from the one shown in 3x08 -written for Syelle Fic Fest II: REvenge of the Fic


Elle sits outside at the small diner's patio. She takes enthusiastic bites of her ice cream, stabbing her plastic spoon a little too roughly into the hard dessert. Everything's been a little hard to do since she got her nails done, but she's not complaining since good agents do _not_ complain.

She revels in the attention she gets from the passersby on the sidewalk. Elle's well aware that she looks adorable today. Daddy let her go shopping with his credit card. She went into the expensive little boutique and bought the Audrey Hepburn-inspired dress in the window. She paired the dress with some gigantic black sunglasses and those fabulous too-high heels she'd had her eye on.

She's ripped from her self-worshipping thoughts when the nosey waitress comes outside. "Honey, are you sure you don't wanna come inside? It's about to snow."

Elle rolls her sky blue eyes behind those gigantic glasses and turns her head to regard the waitress, blonde hair spilling over her shoulder. "I'll come inside if I get cold._ I told you that._" The friendly waitress nods, hands on her hips, before she goes back inside.

"God," Elle mutters to herself. She stabs at her ice cream, pretends it's the waitress. She's trying her best to be good. She knows Daddy's been less than impressed with her lately- especially after that whole cheerleader screw-up thing. But whatever, he can't fire his own daughter, so she tries not to worry too much about it.

Instead, she keeps watching the watch repair shop across the street. Gray and Sons. She overheard Daddy mention to old Glasses a 'person of interest' that worked there. Someone Daddy wanted to hire, probably. Glasses sounded unimpressed, but when wasn't he?

Elle set the ice cream cup down on the cool metal table and repressed a shiver. It was really starting to get cold and maybe ice cream wasn't the best of snack ideas. When she hears the door open again, Elle's had enough of this waitress.

"There's a table open if you want to-"

Annoyed, Elle flicks a bolt of blue electricity past the waitress, shocking the doorknob. She watches gleefully as the nosey waitress burns her hand and rushes back inside. Elle stands up and smoothes her dress out before grabbing her little black purse. She hazards a look at the watch repair shop and is surprised to see someone in there, staring back at her. Shit.

"Fuck it," Elle says to herself and makes a beeline for the shop across the street. She ignores all the traffic, not afraid to get hit. She can stop the cars if she wants to, anyway. She keeps her eyes on the lone occupant of the watch shop, confused as to why she never saw him go inside. She'd been watching it all morning in the cold.

When she comes through the door, a cheerful little bell jingles. Elle scans the shop for the man she saw previously in the window. No one.

"Hello?" she calls out. "Anyone here?"

She navigates her way through the glass showcases and tall grandfather clocks, the tiny store feeling more like a maze than a place of business.

"Mister Gray?" Elle calls out. "Or sons?"

She laughs at her silly little joke, but she's soon cut off when she sees a tall man with thick-framed glasses emerge from behind a curtain. He's wearing a dull plaid shirt and awkward cargo pants. His shoes are practically antiques. They even have tassels on them. He'd probably be handsome if he dressed properly and took those dorky glasses off.

"Do you need help finding something?" The man Elle presumes is Mr. Gray asks.

"I was just having a look around," Elle says. She leaves the "for you" part out. She watches him move past the area marked "EMPLOYEES ONLY, PLEASE" and come closer to her. He smells like grease and metal and something else Elle can't quite pinpoint.

He looks annoyed and nervous at the same time as he jams his big, dirty hands into his pockets. His thick eyebrows furrow and almost look like they're a part of his glasses. He narrows his eyes as if he's trying to see Elle's behind her sunglasses. "I saw you watching me from across the street." He's not accusing her of anything, but it certainly feels like it to Elle.

Elle removes her sunglasses and stuffs them into her purse. "I was waiting to see if you were open." She watches him advance ever closer to her.

Intimidated by exactly how much bigger he is than she, Elle backs up accidentally against a grandfather clock. Both her hands instinctively reach behind her to grasp the clock. Her balance is thrown, thanks to those too-high-heels. Fabulous as they may be, they certainly aren't doing her any favors. Not feeling cute at all, Elle falls to the creaky, wooden floor.

Mr. Gray offers Elle one of his big, dirty hands. "Are you alright?"

Elle feels her face burn hot with embarrassment. She's sure she's flushed and she can't bring herself to look up at the tall man. She does take his hand, however. He pulls her to her feet, only to have her slip in her heels again and fall against him. He catches her, naturally, and holds her up at her shoulders. It's all very awkward, like maybe he doesn't touch many people.

Never a big fan of romantic comedies, Elle hates herself in this moment. "I'm fine. I think," she tells him.

He laughs, soft and quiet. His hands are warm and rough. Nothing like Adam's hands; so cold and smooth, like death. "Maybe you should rethink your choice in footwear," Mr. Gray tells Elle. He removes his hands from her shoulders and shoves them back into his deep pockets.

Elle looks down to study her feet and compares her shoes to his. The worn leather of his old shoes is peeling at the seams and those awful tassels stare back at her mockingly. Daddy wears shoes like these ugly old things.

"And I suppose you think loafers would go better with this dress?" Elle asks Mr. Gray, daring to look up at him. She takes a step away from him and shows her dress off with a grand sweeping gesture of one of her pale arms.

His face colors slightly and all Elle can think is that they're even now. "Well, actually, I was thinking that those blue sparks you have go better," he almost mumbles.

Elle's eyebrows raise and her eyes widen. "You saw that?"

Mr. Gray continues, looking at the floor. "They're very pretty," He mumbles. "Like you."

Elle feels like a ten year old is hitting on her. Clearly, this Mr. Gray has not had a lot of luck with the ladies, and with pickup lines like those, it's no wonder why. Normally she'd give a sarcastic response, but Elle's always had a soft spot for men that pay attention to her.

"Thank you, Mr. Gray," she says. "It's not everyday I get a compliment on my sparks."

"You can call me Gabriel," he tells her, looking up from the floor. "Mr. Gray is my dad."

Elle sticks her hand out and says, "Well Gabriel, my name is Elle. It's nice to meet you."

Gabriel hastily pulls his hand out of his pocket and shakes Elle's tiny one. "Likewise, Elle." He pulls it away instantly when Elle sends a tiny jolt through her hand into his. Gabriel shakes, then cradles his shocked hand as he eyes Elle dubiously. "Is that something you can control?"

Elle shrugs. "Sometimes," she answers with a sideways smile. He really is kind of cute, she decides. Maybe she'll go easy on him. "I've been trying to control it for most of my life, but sometimes it just doesn't behave the way I want it to."

Gabriel seems curious, like maybe Elle's said some magic words to him. "You've had help? With your sparks, I mean?"

Elle nods. "Oh yeah, I've seen tons of scientists, been through lots of tests, even had doctors put me on experimental drugs." She frowns slightly, remembering things she's not really supposed to.

Gabriel puts his big hands on Elle's shoulders. He's probably getting her new dress dirty, but Elle's too distracted by the intense look on his face. Besides, Elle thinks Gabriel's got really pretty eyes behind the glare of those thick glasses.

"Could they help me, then?" He's practically begging, doing all of Elle's work for her. What an easy assignment this has turned out to be. "I don't have sparks or anything. I mean, I do something weird too, it's just-"

"Easy, cowboy," Elle says, placing one of her hands on Gabriel's chest. She feels his heart racing. "I'm sure they'll be glad to help you out," she lies with a sincere smile.

"Even though I've—"

"Look," Elle cuts him off. "I work for this company, and I think you should just go in and see what it's about." She hands him a card. "If you don't like what they have to offer, you can walk away." Lying to this Gabriel is becoming more and more difficult, but Elle has a feeling she's on some pretty thin ice with Daddy. She knows there was no way Gabriel is walking away. He's either going to be forced into working for the company, or he'll be sent to Level Five. Just like all the others.

Gabriel grabs the hand Elle's placed on his chest. He looks at her imploringly. "Do you promise?"

Elle laughs nervously. "Look, Gabriel, it's not a life or death decision. Just give it some thought and if you don't want to go through with it…" she shrugs, eyebrows raised. "That's fine, too."

"I will go through with it," he tells her. "For me it _is_ life or death."

"That important, huh?" Elle asks, suddenly feeling very bad about this whole assignment.

He looks from Elle, to the floor, then to the big display window of the shop. "A few days ago I did something awful," he says as he releases Elle's hand. "It's been eating at me and it was all a result of this…" he hurriedly moves across the floor to the front door. "…this horrible thing happening inside me," Gabriel continues as he snaps the deadbolt shut then pulls the gate down from the ceiling. And they told Elle _she_ was paranoid.

Elle tries to calm him down. "It can't be that bad, can it? The abilities we have, they're a part of us. And you seem like a nice guy," she says it without laughing or smirking through a lie. She genuinely means it. "Whatever your ability, it can't be all that bad." She smiles at him.

Gabriel glances over at the curtain hiding the back room of the shop. "You have no idea." He takes his glasses off and rubs at imaginary dirt on the lenses with the bottom of his shirt. "This ability of mine, it makes me obsessed with needing to know how things work. Once I can figure something out with it, I'm able to replicate whatever it was that I was looking at or studying."

"So you're super smart, then?" Elle asks. Her power is way better than that, she thinks. "Doesn't sound so bad. I bet it helped you out in school."

His eyes have become so dark- almost black. Across the room, Gabriel outstretches his hand. Elle doesn't know what he's trying to do until she turns around to see the grandfather clock move across the floor. "I stole this with it," he says quietly.

"The clock?" Elle asks. She can't imagine, but maybe telekinesis could turn you into a kleptomaniac.

Gabriel shakes his head. "Not the clock. The ability to move it."

She's amazed by how intense he's become in the span of only a few minutes. Earlier she had him pegged as a timid person, but this must be the real Gabriel: the burning urgency, the insatiable curiosity. He's a lot like her. Elle likes him even more.

"So your power is to mimic other powers?" Elle's only seen one other person with that ability, but he's dead now- Daddy's scary friend Arthur.

"I _steal_ other powers," Gabriel corrects her. "But I can't help it. I can't control myself." His hands ball into fists, his knuckles white. "I hate my ability," he whispers.

"What happened to you that was so bad it you hate your power?" Elle asks. She can't understand how someone can be so ungrateful for something that makes them so special. She loves her sparks more than anything, even though they hurt her sometimes. How could Gabriel hate something so amazing?

When Gabriel turns away, she gets in front of him. "Gabriel, you can tell me." She looks up at his face and puts one of her hands on his cheek. She watches his eyes slide shut as he heaves a sigh. It must be really bad, Elle thinks.

"Please don't tell anyone," he says, opening his eyes. "It's unforgivable, what I'm about to tell you."

Elle's sure she's heard worse than whatever Gabriel's got to say. She's killed people. Daddy says nothing is worse than that. It's also the entire reason she was taken off field assignments. If only Bennet wasn't such a tattle-tale. Well, she'll show all of them when she shows up with Gabriel in tow. She's perfectly capable, babysitter or not.

"I won't tell," Elle lies. "So what is it?"

Gabriel breathes in and exhales shakily. "I," he shoves his hands back into his pockets. "I killed a man. It was a moment of weakness, but I just… I needed to see." He walks behind the counter by the register, tries to put some distance between Elle and himself. "I needed to see how it worked, so I just took it."

Elle smiles. "That's all?"

"What?" Gabriel is understandably confused.

She saunters across the shop and rests her elbows on the counter separating Gabriel from her. "So you had a good reason," Elle says, propping her chin on one of her hands. "What's there to feel bad about?"

Gabriel shakes his head and pushes himself away from the counter. "Haven't you ever heard of 'Thou shalt not kill'?"

"Yeah, but I'm not very religious," Elle explains. "Besides, I've done worse, so you don't have to worry about me judging you or anything."

"Judge not, lest ye be judged," Gabriel says to himself.

Elle waves a dismissive hand at him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she says, eyes rolled. "So do you wanna come check this place out or not? I can give you a ride."

"You're sure I can back out if I don't like it?" Gabriel needs to make sure.

Elle puts her sunglasses back on. "Sure, why not?" It's easier to lie to him if he can't look her in the eye. She heads for the door and waits for Gabriel to unlock it, then the two of them get into the tiny blue Mercedes parked outside.

Gabriel frowns, noticing Elle pulling a ticket from her windshield. "Your meter must have expired. Sorry about the ticket."

Elle sends a few hundred watts into the crumpled paper in her hands and scatters its ashes out the window. "What ticket?" she asks with a smirk.

Despite himself Gabriel can't help but smirk, too.


End file.
